Behind Enemy Lines

by Cindy Dees

  As Tom watched the people below hurry to finish their last errands before darkness and its dangers, a deep restlessness welled up inside him. He wanted to be out there with his men, to be in the thick of the action, to watch events unfolding before his eyes. Unfortunately, about all he was good for was looking out a window.

  As the streets emptied, his mind shifted into high gear. His senses grew sharper with each passing moment, more alert, faster, lethal. It was the coming of the night. It brought out the hunter in him. Adrenaline surged in his veins, and he itched with the anticipation of pitting his strength and wits against the enemy’s. It was addictive, this feeling.

  Annie stirred beside him. “What do you see when you look out there?”

  He opened the blanket wider to give her a view, as well.

  “I see a city preparing itself for a war, without having any idea of what it’s really going to be like.”

  “But you know, don’t you?” Her voice was quiet, almost sad.

  Maybe it was a bit sad that he knew precisely what was about to happen to this peaceful, prosperous city.

  “This is going to be an ugly fight with no mercy,” he said quietly.

  He heard her sigh, a soft sound of compassion and regret. “Such a tragedy,” she murmured.

  How right she was. As they waited and watched, the silence outside deepened. By gradual degrees the stillness grew heavy with anticipation.

  Annie began to fidget. “I almost wish the fighting would start,” she remarked. “The waiting is killing me.”

  Tom chuckled. “I’ll remind you of those words in about six hours. Never fear, the fighting’s getting close.”

  She looked up at him sharply. “Can you hear it?”

  “No, angel. I can feel it.”

  “How?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know exactly. This fight is like being in the same room with a pair of secret lovers. They’re circling around the room pretending to ignore each other, but the electricity between them is so thick you can almost touch it. Don’t you feel it?”

  She gave him a perplexed look.

  He let the blanket drop so only a tiny crack was left to peer out of. “Come here.” He pulled her in front of him and put his arms around her.

  “You see over there on that high hill, the one with the church on it, how there’s a bluish haze hanging in the air?” He pointed over her shoulder so she could sight along his arm.

  “Yes, I guess so.”

  “That’s the army. They’ve got a big convoy of armored vehicles and tanks parked in that area.”

  “Are they getting ready to roll?”

  “No, it’s too early. They’ll wait until after dark. It’s probably just mechanics checking out the equipment. But the tension’s building.”

  Annie relaxed back against him as the sun began to set, and he savored her easy trust in him. Since they were so near the equator, the sun seemed to hang motionless in the sky, not far above the rooftops, for a long time. Then, all of a sudden, it dived toward the horizon as if it, too, fled the night to come.

  Sunset bathed the city in blood red, and under Tom’s hands goose bumps raised on Annie’s cool flesh.

  “It’s not an omen, Annie. It’s just a red sunset.”

  She sighed. “I know. But it’s still creepy.”

  He smiled into her silky hair. “Our lovers are circling each other, drawing ever closer with each trip around the room. They’re pretending they don’t notice one another, but they’re so vividly aware of each other they can hardly keep from rushing headlong into an embrace.”

  Annie shifted restlessly. Her body flowed like silk between his arms, fluid yet substantial at the same time.

  He continued talking low into her ear. “Right now our lovers are savoring the anticipation. They’re imagining their joining, the sight of it, the sound of it, the smell of it. The waiting is heady, almost better than the real thing. But then, that’s the reason for taking a secret lover, isn’t it? For the thrill of doing the unthinkable, of tasting the forbidden, of breaking the rules.”

  Annie’s respiration was rapid, her skin hot to the touch. Sexual energy poured off her. She provoked every unthinkable, forbidden fantasy he’d ever had of a woman. He was as hard as a rock, and his own breathing accelerated to match hers.

  “Are we still talking about the army and the rebels?” Her whispered words were ragged, shaky, even.

  “You tell me.”

  There was a long silence, and her body alternately went rigid and relaxed in his arms as she wrestled with her answer. He waited her out.

  “Is that why you choose this life? You get a thrill out of it?”

  For some reason he felt talkative tonight. “No. I hate being out there.”

  “Then why?” she whispered. “What are you punishing yourself for?”

  Her words tore a jagged wound in a piece of his heart he’d thought was long ago put to rest. The pain almost buckled his knees. He forced himself answer her, but his voice was ragged. “I do it for Simon. The guy Jackie got killed was named Simon Pettigrew. I led him into a trap that I was too blinded by lust to see. My first command,” he choked out. “My fault—”

  Annie’s hand was suddenly on his mouth, holding back any more words. “Stop it, Tom. Stop tearing yourself up like this. It happened a long time ago. What’s done is done.”

  He reached for her wrist and pulled her hand away. “It’s never done, Annie. Don’t you see? I go from one war to another, and when that one’s done, another one’s waiting for us.”

  “What I see is a brave man, a good commander, being too hard on himself.”

  He whirled away from her, staring, unseeing, out the window. She didn’t get it. She’d never had to make life-and-death decisions. She’d never made the wrong choice and killed someone.

  “Tell me what else you see out there, Tom.”

  He fought back his turbulent emotions until he could answer her reasonably calmly.

  He sighed. “I see youth and eagerness straining to prove themselves. I see cynicism taking advantage of naive ideals. I see disappointment, disillusionment and disaster coming.”

  Annie turned around in his arms to face him.

  “Is that how you see me? Young and naive? Are we headed for disaster?”

  “Annie, just now I was talking about the boys out there who are being pointed at each other by politicians and told to kill each other. That’s not what I see in you at all.”

  “What do you see when you look at me?”

  “I see a beautiful woman circling the other side of the room from me, pretending she doesn’t know I’m here. I can taste her right now. I can already hear her voice raised in ecstasy beneath me. I feel her body becoming part of mine. I’m willing her to look my way, to catch my eye and signal that she can’t wait any longer to have me.”

  Annie’s voice came out muffled against his chest. “Wow.”

  Right now he’d do just about anything to have her. He needed her touch worse than just about anything he’d ever needed before. He needed to be reminded that he was still a part of the human race. It had been so long since he’d allowed himself this.

  “Be my secret lover, Annie. Break the rules with me. Do every forbidden thing with me that you’ve ever imagined.”

  “I know better,” she groaned, “but I want you so much.”

  He couldn’t keep the desperation out of his voice. “Then come with me. Let’s leave the party and have our secret rendezvous. Let’s make the anticipation pale by comparison to the real thing.”

  His hands roamed up and down her back. Her spine curved as tautly as a bow as she leaned back, staring up at him in terrible indecision.

  He gave her a half smile. “Come on, angel. Sin a little with me.”

  The tension left her as a reluctant smile lit her face. “How can a girl say no to the Devil himself?”

  “The Devil, am I?”

  She was closer to the truth than she knew.

  “Well then, I
promise your fall shall be one to remember, my sweet angel.”

  He leaned down and claimed the kiss that hovered on her lips waiting to be taken. They turned away from the window, and the last, dying streaks of the crimson sunset wrapped around them as if the very gates of Hell yawned open, beckoning.

  With a flick of his wrist, Tom pulled the blanket over the window completely, plunging the room into soft darkness.

  Chapter 8

  A nnie sprawled on top of Tom with nary a stitch of clothing between them when the shelling started. She had no exact recollection of how she’d gotten into this position, other than a vague memory of Tom’s clever hands moving all over her and her clothes magically disappearing.

  His body was solid everywhere, all slabbed muscles and hard tendons, just like she remembered. Except he was so much more impressive awake and in motion. The very gentleness with which he handled her spoke volumes about his strength, and Annie reveled in his care.

  The sound of the first mortars tickled the edges of her consciousness, building slowly to a growl, vibrating deep in the city’s throat. Meanwhile Tom’s hands explored every part of her body, and the tremors he set off were nearly indistinguishable from those outside their private world.

  The subliminal rumbling gradually grew into thunder, low and powerful, rolling through her and sweeping her along in its majesty. Tom’s mouth followed the path of his hands, capturing her in a separate storm of his own making.

  He started at the tips of her toes and worked his way to the top of her head, feeling and tasting all of her. He lingered at the backs of her knees, nibbled the tender flesh of her inner thighs, kissed his way across the flat plane of her stomach to savor the trembling flesh of her breasts. His explorations didn’t end there, though. He lifted her up and slid her down his body slowly, burying his face against her neck, sending a riot of sensations throughout her. She eased down his gorgeous body, returning the favor, relishing the feel and taste of him.

  Bright flashes of heat lightning exploded within her to match the surging thunder of Tom’s heartbeat under her ear. He rolled over, reversing their positions in one of those blindingly quick moves of his. He stared down at her, his eyes caverns of darkness in his shadowed face.

  “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this.”

  “Like how?”

  “You’re scared, and you want to forget what’s happening out there.”

  “That may be true, but I still want to be here tonight…with you.”

  An even deeper shadow crossed his face, one from inside his soul. “Look, Annie. I care about you. Enough to tell you right now that my life, my work, doesn’t mix well with long-term commitments.”

  She stared up at him, undecided. This was the point of no return. He was offering her an out, and she ought to take it. She knew the kind of life he led, the way his job would always come first. Besides, she had no business falling into bed with a man she’d been prepared to kill. Was it guilt she felt or real affection for him? This wasn’t the way to find out.

  But he was everything she’d ever fantasized about in a man—intelligent, kind, strong, confident—and she couldn’t bring herself to turn away from him. She’d thought about this moment practically from the first moment she’d been told he was going to live.

  Each sponge bath she’d given gave him, each massage, each soothing touch to ease his pain had led her to this moment. For weeks she’d ached to have him wake up and respond to her touch. She was dying to know what it would be like to have him touch her back.

  The rumbling outside grew louder, separating itself occasionally into distinct explosions. The bed shook slightly. Whether it was from the shelling or her own trembling desire, she couldn’t tell.

  The danger outside crept slowly but surely into their nest, a living thing creeping over the windowsills like fog and roiling along the floor to lick at their feet. There was no way of knowing if she’d live to see another morning.

  She spoke softly. “Tom, you’re right. I am afraid. But that has nothing to do with how I feel about you. I—” she hesitated a moment more and then took the plunge “—want you.”

  He let out his breath on a sigh. “I can’t promise you anything beyond this moment, Annie.”

  She reached up and placed her palm on the smooth plane of his cheek. “I know the rules of engagement here. I have an idea of the kind of life you lead. This moment is enough for me.”

  His arms relaxed, and he sank down with her into the night. She welcomed him, cradling his body with hers, offering up solace and passion, comfort and dreams.

  The flashes of light outside lit Tom’s face in harsh relief. His jaw looked tight, as if he was holding himself back carefully. She didn’t want careful on a night that could be her last.

  “Tom, let go. I want all of you tonight.”

  Tom froze and then drew back, staring down at her. That was the last thing he’d expected his scared little innocent to say. A big explosion went off somewhere outside, and he barely registered it.

  Panic wrapped itself around his throat. Old fears warned him that if he allowed himself this moment of pleasure—with a woman he cared about, in the middle of a mission—disaster would follow.

  His throat was so tight he could only whisper, “Are you sure, angel?”

  Her lips curved into the prettiest smile he’d ever seen. “I’m sure.”

  That was it. He had no more protests left, no more lofty ideals to stand by, no more strictures of gentlemanly behavior to stop him. Tonight he needed her worse than life itself, and she wanted him back. It was a miracle, and he wasn’t going to turn away from it or from her.

  As her mouth moved beneath his and her body arched up into him, feminine and wildly appealing, he was humbled by her gift. He pushed aside the last of his doubts and embraced the world of the living. For this one night he was going to be a man and not an emotionless shell.

  She drove him beyond distraction, and he was almost in a daze. Her breasts filled his hands perfectly. He kissed them reverently, then kneaded and kissed her flesh until Annie writhed and moaned beneath him. Everywhere he touched her, she burned for him. His hands and mouth roamed over her body while he reveled in her passionate response.

  Finally she dragged him higher, wrapped her legs around him and pulled him near. “I want you now,” she whispered in confession and demand.

  He smiled, beguiled by her innocence and abandon. “I wouldn’t want to keep a lady waiting,” he murmured back. He paused long enough to brush the hair back from her face, to look deeply into her emerald gaze, to memorize her vibrant joy.

  Slowly, he sank into her, amazed by how her body stretched and gave to accommodate him. And then he was so deep inside her he could barely breathe. He felt every tremor and pulse of her growing ardor, and it drove him out of his mind. He forced himself not to pound into her mindlessly, but to move slowly and savor this miracle.

  He enjoyed every sensation, from the velvet slide of her flesh against his, to the taste of mint toothpaste on her breath, to the way she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on as if she’d never let him go.

  She brimmed with life, embracing it enthusiastically and sharing it generously. He’d spent so many years living on the edge of death, he’d almost forgotten this existed. He gulped it down greedily.

  Annie met him, breath for breath, kiss for kiss, smile for smile, as their bodies and feelings became one. She was life itself. If he could’ve made her a part of himself he would have. He held her as if he’d do just that, twining their bodies together, flesh to flesh, heart to heart.

  Somewhere outside, the flashes and explosions were growing louder, but the fireworks in his head and the pounding of his heart drowned most of it out. The sound and fury inside and out built to a nearly unbearable crescendo.

  It all paused for a breathless, infinite second in time. And then, as the walls shook and the windows rattled, he and his angel broke free of their bodies and soared into another place for one per
fect moment.

  Peace.

  Sensation returned slowly. Annie’s glorious body pressed against his from his ankles to his ears. He roused himself enough to murmur, “Am I crushing you?”

  A gentle laugh from Annie. “Not at all. Don’t move a muscle.”

  She was perfect. That’s all there was to it.

  After a long, relaxed silence, she spoke again. “Is it just me or is there a war going on out there?”

  He laughed and rolled over onto his back, taking her with him and tucking her under his arm. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder.

  “I haven’t the slightest idea what’s going on outside this bed.”

  Her hand caressed his chest lightly. “Me, neither.”

  Annie lurched awake sometime later. Tom’s chest rose and fell slowly under her ear. It was silent outside. Dead quiet. The kind of quiet just before all hell breaks loose. She tried Tom’s trick of sensing what was going on outside and was immediately overcome by a powerful premonition of bad things to come.

  “Tom,” she whispered.

  He was awake instantly. He lay perfectly still, but suddenly his awareness filled the room.

  She whispered, “What’s going on out there?”

  He listened for a moment and then swore quietly. He eased out from beneath her.

  “Stay where you are.”

  She lay back and enjoyed the dim view of his naked body moving away from her. He drew back the curtain a bare inch and peered outside. His lean hips and muscular shoulders were outlined against an eerie, orange glow.

  “Ah, hell,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “What is it?” She sat up in spite of Tom’s instructions. She’d never heard tension like that in his voice before.

  “Get down.” His words were sharp, short. “On the floor, now.”

  She rolled out of bed and had the presence of mind to drag the covers with her. From beneath the bed she saw Tom’s feet take a running leap in her direction and disappear as he dived behind the bed with her.

  A slow whistle began, tearing the air apart, growing louder and louder until Annie thought her eardrums might split. Tom’s hand cupped the back of her head, pushing her face against his chest as he rolled on top of her.